Mundi Serpentium
by SlytherClaw9510
Summary: It is Harry's first year at Hogwarts. A mass murderer is on the loose, a blonde boy is shopping for robes at Madam Malkin's, and the Sorting Hat throws the Boy-who-lived in a pit of snakes. In the midst of all this, a werewolf is hired for the occasion, and the Potions Master is on the verge of insanity.
1. A whole new world

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling. We are just playing around with some characters.

A whole new world

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had never thought that taking in their hateful freak nephew would lead them to be faced with a horrid giant, their door shoved away, their terrified son chasing his newly grown pigtail, and their lives permanently shattered. They had tried to beat the abnormality out of the boy, hoping his people would forget about him. They had attempted to live a normal life with all their might, crushing the burden that had befallen on them. But their worst nightmare had come true and nothing could have prepared them for the wreckage that lay before their eyes.

"I'm a what? No offense, sir, but you are surely mistaken. I mean, I'm Harry, just Harry", he said, dumbfounded. After taking down the shack door, the man had apologized for the damage and introduced himself as Rubeus Hagrid, gamekeeper at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had given Harry a letter like the ones the Dursleys tried to keep from him. Before anyone could snatch it from his hand, Harry had quickly opened it, longing to discover what it said.

The small dark-haired, green-eyed boy had been bitterly disappointed when he found out all of this had only been one big joke. The letter was all about a wizarding school, and Harry had known since his early childhood that such nonsense was not and could not possibly be real. So, naturally, when Hagrid tried to make him believe that he was a wizard – him, a wizard, no less! – he was not fooled. Surely the man was an insane patient who somehow managed to escape from a nearby psychiatric hospital. At best, Hagrid was mistaken. However, rather than bluntly telling the friendly man about his doubts regarding his mental health, Harry went for a more subtle approach. By telling Hagrid that he was nowhere near being a wizard, he hoped that the giant would realize the absurdity of what he was stating on his own.

Beady eyes radiated sympathy and love towards the tiny and frail figure staring confusedly at him. The man bore a tangled beard and a wild dark mane. He was twice as tall as the shack's now useless door.

"Well, 'just Harry', 'ave yeh ever experienced any peculiar moments? Like when yer angry, or real sad?" the giant watched as the boy's facial expression abruptly transformed. Although it was not quite the expression of sudden understanding he had expected. Harry had turned sulky.

"Yes, but that's because I'm a… freak", the little boy said.

"Yer not a freak Harry! Yer a wizard, and you'll be a great one once yer fully trained. After all, the apple never falls far from the tree. Ye'll be brilliant just like yer folk, James and Lily. In a few week ye'll be goin' to Hogwarts, and-"

Petunia's high-pitched shriek cut him off. Vernon jerked back. Both had turned red as tomatoes. Vernon looked about to blow up. He was shaking, barely holding back his anger. Petunia's disgust was conspicuous.

"Nonsense! He won't be going anywhere, except to Stonewall High. We took him in ten years ago, only out of the greatness of our hearts and we will not put up with any of this freakishness!" Petunia paused, then turned to Harry. "Of course, you're one of them, what else would you be? My blasted sister received a letter of her own when she was your age. Soon enough, she was off to that school where freaks of all sorts taught her all kinds of freaky stuff. Eventually, she married a good-for-nothing, and together, they had you. I thought I had gotten rid of her for good, but we had to take you in after someone blew them up".

Vernon nodded virulently in agreement. The giant roared, making the shack quake. The Dursleys turned white as ghosts, but kept their determined look on. The stranger had turned into a fury, his fierce gaze piercing through Petunia's tenuous body. Harry tensed up, his eyes glittering with contained anger and frustration. He clenched his fists and turned violently towards his aunt.

"Blew them up?! But you always told me they died in a car accident!"

"A car accident? For Merlin's sake, Dursley! Do yeh mean to tell me that Harry doesn't know anythin' 'bout 'is family history, anythin' about our – 'is – world?!" The giant turned bright red, and Harry was under the impression that he would explode any second. Hagrid clenched his fists, his big hands turning white, and started roaring and shouting unrecognizable words. Although Vernon was shaking with fear by then, he made one last attempt to get rid of the unwanted guest.

"Alright! That's more than enough, the boy's not going anywhere, and you're not telling him no more about your bloody abnormal world! Get out of my property at once, you damned fool, or I'll shoot you dead!" Vernon snapped, aiming his rifle at the intruder. The latter smirked, as if the muggle's threat were a laughing matter.

He twisted the rifle easily, leaving it damaged beyond repair. Petunia and Dudley gasped in unison, while Vernon froze, dumbfounded, his eyes fixed on the useless weapon. Harry was in awe at his new friend's superhuman ability. He examined the giant curiously, as though to find a way to absorb some of the strength he had just witnessed. He had always been bullied at school, and his frail and underfed figure had been of no use when it came to fighting back. Maybe Hagrid's protection would enable him to be left in peace in his new school…

"The choice's yours, Harry. Hogwarts's waitin' for yeh, and no one can keep you from goin' to school there if that's what yeh wish, not even yer relatives 'ere. So, Hogwarts or Stonewall High?" Hagrid asked. He made his way to the doorframe to take his cue.

"I don't care much for Stonewall High, thank you" Harry said with a grin, in Hagrid's tow.

The next morning, Harry did not want to open his eyes. What if it had all been a dream? After all, no one could be as tall and big as Hagrid. Giants did not exist, and, as his uncle had told him so many times, magic did not exist either. The sooner he would open his eyes, the sooner he would be able to go back to the real world. His aunt would wake him up angrily soon enough, and if he did not wake up then, he would be in for an even bigger disappointment. When he finally managed to force his eyes open, a jolt of joy burst into him. The three Dursleys startled when he got up. Dudley hid his face behind his arms, and tried to go under the small table in vain – his fat would never have enabled him to enter such a small space. Then, he knew that the giant Hagrid would indeed come back for him. As though to confirm his thoughts, the door was shoved away once again, as aunt Petunia's shriek and Dudley's cry pierced his ears.

The leaky Cauldron – an Inn warded against muggles – had been a very strange place to visit. Indeed, every warlock there had been keen to shake his hand and talk to him. Well, all but two. Professor Quirrell, his first year's professor in Defence against the Dark Arts, had seemed excited to meet him, enthralled as he was in his conversation with him. However, oddly enough, he had refused to shake his hand. That was when he had noticed a tall, thin dark figure examining him fiercely, bearing an expression between distaste and interest. Before Harry could ask Hagrid about this strange man with greasy black hair, the latter had cut short their call to the Leaky Cauldron. They had been headed towards Diagon Alley and his new friend had seemed in a hurry for some reason.

Diagon Alley was very different from all Harry had ever seen. He thought he was dreaming awake. Wizards and witches everywhere, in long emerald or black robes and pointed hats. Strange expressions such as "by Merlin's beard" reached his ears. In the muggle world, people seldom heard the hoot of owls. But there, it seemed to be a constant. Cats of various colours and shapes sometimes wandered away from their masters, attracted by a rat in a child's hands. Happiness filled the air. The atmosphere was fairy. He passed a group of young wizards amazed at the latest broomstick released by "Quality Quidditch Supplies" and labelled "Nimbus 2000". He imagined himself flying on the broom displayed, wind hitting his face and tousling his hair. His broad smile widened at the thought, even if a ball of fear made its way to his throat. He would have loved to spend the remaining month of his holidays in the crowded street, exploring every shop and every corner. However, he had to keep up with Hagrid's quick pace.

Their first stop was at Gringott's. He wondered how the twisted building could stand erect, and concluded it was heavily enchanted. Hagrid had told him it was the second safest place in the world after Hogwarts, but the silhouette of the building did not seem trustworthy to him. Small, seemingly vicious creatures – goblins – showed him to his late parents' vault, where he inherited a mountain of gold. Then, Hagrid withdrew a curious small package from safe number 713 and insisted that Harry would not tell anyone about it. Although Harry, curious as he is, tried interrogating his friend, the only answer he managed to extract was a muttered 'it's for Professor Dumbledore'.

Afterwards, Harry went to Ollivander's on his own as Hagrid left to run a few errands. As soon as he entered the grim shop, Harry felt uncomfortable. Mr. Ollivander was a white-haired tall man with long sideburns. His black eyes glittered almost unnoticeably at the sight of Harry's scar. Just as all the wizards he had met so far, Ollivander recognized him. He told him about his parents' first wands. This man's memory was as extraordinary as all the wonders Harry had come across in the past two days. Although Mr. Ollivander was very friendly, something seemed off about him. Harry could not help finding the shop and its owner creepy. All the more so when said owner told him the wand that had chosen him – after a pile of wands had damaged the shop while in his hands – was the twin of the one the 'great wizard' who had killed his parents and scarred him owned. Ollivander had a tendency to lean over Harry as he spoke, getting so close that he could feel his breath on his face and see his reflection in the wizard's eyes. Ollivander's eyes shone when he mentioned the dark wizard, showing both fear and admiration. The urge to leave the shop and find Hagrid became overwhelming. Thus, when his most awaited friend came back, a cage in his hand, Harry took all his belongings and left without waiting, only muttering a low 'good bye'.

When he was finally out of sight of the feared man, Harry saw the white owl's yellow eyes set on him. The Dursleys had never given anything on his birthday. Yet, that year, he had received both a cake and a pet. He burst in joy, and could just manage to restrain himself enough not to make a fool of himself in the midst of the crowded street. It was the first time in his life he was faced with so much love and attention. Although he could hardly keep his tears at bay with emotion, he had no idea whatsoever about how to show how grateful he was. The attention was so new and unwarranted that he felt uncomfortable about it.

Harry checked his list of school supplies. They still had to buy the books and the robes. They headed towards the north side of Diagon Alley. They stopped in front of a big shop called Madam Malkins displaying all kinds of robes, cloaks and gowns for witches and wizards. A couple of wizards were enthralled by the display, but the inside did not seem busy. Hagrid waited outside, with the ice cream he had bought Harry, as he did not want to soil any of the merchandise. A young blonde wizard stood on a stool, while a squat and seemingly friendly witch was bustling around his robes, waving her wand to make the tape measure move on its own, encircling at turn his arms, his waist and his thighs.

"Hogwarts, too?" the blonde boy said casually.

"Yeah" Harry replied, trying to sound as normal and relaxed as possible, so the boy would not realize he was out of place.

"I'm Draco, by the way. My parents are here too, getting me the rest of my supplies. Father is at Flourish and Blotts purchasing all of my school books, and some extras, of course. Mother already picked up my pet owl. It's a gorgeous eagle owl, you should've seen it, really, but mother just showed it to me before hurrying to buy me a trunk. Oh and my godfather's also helping out. He made sure I'm getting only the finest potions ingredients. He's a Potions Master, you know. So, he utterly refused to let me buy the pre-packaged ingredients they sell to first years. He selected mine himself. The freshest and highest quality ones."

Despite feeling a little bit jealous of the attention and care Draco was getting from his family, he couldn't help but enjoy hearing the boy go on about magic books, potions ingredients and pet owls. Not only did it remind him that the school he was going to attend was not an ordinary one, but it also made him feel as if he were in one of those happy ending movies - where children were loved and cheerful and parents were kind and always smiling – that he used to watch hidden behind a door or under a table.

"Your parents are wizards too?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, they were wizards" he replied "they're dead though".

"I'm sorry" Draco said.

"It's not like I remember them, so it's fine, really".

"Still, I shouldn't have. Here, take my ingredients set. I'll tell Uncle Severus I lost them on the way. He wouldn't mind buying me some more" Draco said, handing a carefully wrapped set to the boy he had met only minutes ago. Harry's eyes widened.

"No, no, I can't accept. Plus, I don't want your godfather to be angry with you." Harry knew first-hand what happened when _his_ uncle was angry with him, and he did not want anything like that to happen to the surprisingly kind aristocratic-looking boy.

"Nah, he won't." he replied aloofly. "Give him a chance to visit the apothecary shop and he'll be glad, no matter what" he explained with a mischievous grin as he thrust the ingredients set into Harry's hands.

"Thanks so much, Draco" Harry said as the witch came forward to measure him and hand a receipt to his new friend.

"We'll owl the robes as soon as they're ready, dear. Although it may take a week or two, since the ones you chose are the most refined we've got", the small woman said softly before turning to Harry. "Oh, you're all measured up. Robes for Hogwarts as well?"

"Yes ma'am" he replied.

"Standard ones or do you have special requests?" she asked, taking a notebook from her pocket, ready to take Harry's order.

Harry stopped to think for a moment. Getting a new school uniform meant he got to wear something other than Dudley's oversized hand-me-downs, and he wanted to make sure his uniform was good enough not to attract any snarky comments from his future schoolmates. With all the money he had in his vault, he was sure he could afford the best. Better safe than sorry, he thought. Hogwarts was a new start, and he was not going to ruin it with a sloppy-looking set of robes.

"I'll have the same as my peer here, please" he said to the dressmaker "If you don't mind, of course, Draco" he added.

"It's fine. Following the good example of the Malfoy scion, eh?" Draco answered, amused and a little bit flattered.

Before Harry could reply to that, a blonde-haired woman that looked incredibly like Draco came in. Harry assumed she was his mother. She had Draco's proud and somewhat haughty look, yet much more distant.

"Let's go, son" she said. Stepping down from the measuring stool, Draco followed his mother out. At the last moment, the boy turned around.

"The name's Draco Malfoy. The address is the Malfoy Manor. Owl me before school starts". He said hurriedly. Harry could not help but find him stylish.

"Will do!" Harry responded happily.

Laid on his bed, Harry wondered whether he would enjoy every day at Hogwarts as much as he had his day with Hagrid. He had tried to immerse himself in the universe of magic before school started, but the only thing he had managed to save from the hurricane his uncle had turned into was his History book. He would rather have read the one about transfiguration or the one about potions, but as soon as he had made it home with his newly acquired possessions, Vernon had locked everything away. He had only had time to sneak the book on the top of the pile under his shirt, and it had turned out to be _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot. He had spent the whole month following his birthday reading it over and over again and taking care of Hedwig, his owl – he had found the name in the book he already knew by heart. The Dursleys had forbidden him to let her out of her cage, as they feared she might bring more of the fearful letters from Hogwarts. He was glad, however, that they had let her stay with him in his cupboard under the stairs. He had talked to her on more than one occasion to pass the time. She had become his faithful friend. She seemed to understand every word he would tell her, and to share any feeling he had.

He could not help thinking about the boy he had met at the magical tailor's. At first, Harry had not written a single word to Draco, for fear of losing face because of his lack of knowledge when it came to the wizarding world. He thought that a boy such as Draco who was granted so much attention and love could - and was seemingly a bit proud too - could only be cultured. Thus, he imagined that an ignorant such as himself could only be a laughing matter to Draco, and he could not risk losing a friendship that had not started yet. Therefore, he had planned to learn as much as he could about a world he had just discovered before venturing into a risky mail exchange. However, the Dursleys had disrupted his plans when they had locked up all of his belongings except for his history book.

But Draco was more eager to make his acquaintance than he had thought. Indeed, a great surprise awaited him one morning a week after his meeting with the blonde boy. Harry was awaken by a strange clanking noise on his window. An enormous and majestic grey eagle owl was fervently tapping his window and staring intently at him. Slowly and hesitantly, he had gathered all the bravery in his possession and had opened the window. He would never have imagined that instead of a letter from Hogwarts announcing he was expelled, he would find a regal envelop encrusted with mighty Arms. A careful cursive handwriting had indicated it came from Malfoy Manor. Relief had rushed over him and he had all but ripped the envelope in anticipation. In his letter, Draco had mainly complained about his two 'friends' Crabbe and Goyle, who were apparently 'the foolishest fools in the world whose foul mouths can utter but foolishness'. Harry understood that for the first time in his life, he would be able to have at least one friend. The most enthralling part of it all was that he did not have to worry about sounding ignorant, as he, at least, had a brain. Thus, during the three remaining weeks, Harry had also been entertained by Draco's stories about the noble Malfoy family and about Malfoy Manor, while Harry asked many questions about Hogwarts houses and their history.

Those three weeks had been the happiest he had ever been, and he could not wait to see his friend on the way to Hogwarts.

The next day, the Dursleys would take Harry to King's Cross, as Hagrid had ordered them to do. His ticket to Hogwarts Express was locked with the rest of his belongings, so he did not even know which platform he would be waiting in. His thoughts wandered once again as he started imagining his life at Hogwarts for the umpteenth time, leading him slowly towards a restful sleep.


	2. On The Way Home

On The Way Home

He was in the middle of the crowded King's Cross. He had never been to a station before, as the Dursleys had never taken him with them when they went on holidays. In fact, every time they left the house, they put him in the care of their neighbour, Mrs. Figg. She was nice, but the cakes she offered him seemed to have spent an utterly significant amount of time in her cellar. Besides, her house smelt atrociously of cats – which was to be expected given the army of cats crawling all over the place, but also happened to be most uncomfortable and disgusting. The most annoying part of the never-ending days at Mrs. Figgs' was the fact that she spent the entire time telling him relentlessly about said cats, showing him photographs he already knew in detail.

He looked around, trying to take in every detail. He did not want to forget a single element of this memorable day, on which he would get rid of his abhorred uncle, aunt and cousin for a whole year. A new life was starting for him on that very day, and however he knew for a fact that nothing could be worse than living with his 'family', he was as confused and apprehensive as he was excited. Light protruded from the glass ceiling, making the large station luminous. Dozens of men and women were walking hurriedly towards their platform. Children were scarce, as school would start the next day and most of them had already returned to their home. He was so enthralled by the reviving atmosphere that he had almost forgotten all about his train. He eventually checked his ticket. Platform 93/4? How could the ticket read platform 93/4 ? Although he had never been to the station before, he had heard people talk about platforms, and their numbers were all integers. There must have been a mistake! Besides, with Hagrid gone, he could ask no one for help. As panic was slowly penetrating him, a saving sentence reached his ears. Indeed, a large redheaded family passed him by, talking about 'muggles' and 'platform 93/4'.

Harry stood back, careful not to be noticed by the family. As friendly as they seemed to be, he didn't want to be in the spotlight as long as he didn't master the basics of wizarding society. It would be safer, he thought, to watch them from afar then emulate whatever they did to get on the platform.

"Alright, boys, this is it" said a balding man Harry assumed was the father of the redheaded lot.

"Percy, you go first, that way Ronnie will see you do it and won't be scared" said a plump woman. To Harry's surprise, the oldest looking boy took his trolley and ran straight into the wall.

"I'm not scared, Mum!" came a late protest from a younger redhead. From where he was standing, Harry noticed that wasn't entirely true. The boy looked almost green, and he could tell he was a little bit relieved when his older brother crossed safely to the other side.

"Fred, your turn" the woman said to yet another one of her sons, who was standing near his twin, his arm casually thrown on his brother's shoulder.

"He's not Fred, I am!" the twin shouted.

"Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?" his brother said.

"Sorry, George, dear" the mother sighed, urging her son forward.

"Only joking, I'm Fred" the boy said and off he went, closely followed by his brother.

Harry couldn't help but smile at their antics. He should keep an eye on those two. With all the adjustments he had to make to fit in this new world, some fun friends wouldn't hurt, and the twins seemed to be just what he needed. He waited until the parents and the youngest child – the only girl – had penetrated into the barrier and approached the passageway. He had been slightly surprised at the sight of people casually entering a wall, but after everything Hagrid had showed him, his surprise had been of short duration. After all, all rational thoughts had left him the moment he had entered Diagon Alley. Although he had seen a whole family pass through the barrier, he could not suppress the chill that crept across his body. What if he had missed a spell the children had muttered and that had let them through? What if he had not enough magic in him to cross that obstacle? He emptied his mind, checked no muggle was looking his way and walked casually into the wall between platforms 9 and 10.

As soon as he had reached the wall, he found himself in the middle of a crowded and smoke-filled platform, and a couple of wizards hurt inadvertently his trolley. He moved quickly from his spot, so as to avoid colliding with a young wizard or witch entering the platform behind him. Although the adults were wearing muggle clothes as they had had to face muggles at King's Cross, several students had already changed into their robes. The scene that lay before his eyes was such as he was immediately submerged into the fairy atmosphere. Cats, owls and toads in cages in their master's' hands flooded the platform. Everyone seemed in a rush, parents helped their children into their coaches, sometimes crying because they would be parted from their youngest for the first time. The train in itself was impressive. It was a huge scarlet old fashioned steam engine. Gold letters glowed on the engine. They read 'Hogwarts Express'. He gaped at the spectacle. He could never have imagined that such a scene could take place in the middle of London, let alone inside one of King's Cross' solid barriers.

The train ringing the approaching departure made him recover his spirits. He rushed inside the engine and set out to find either an empty coach or a coach where his new acquaintance, Draco Malfoy, would be. He realized quickly that his friend was not on board yet even if the train was already almost full and was ready to depart. He settled in a compartment only occupied by an old sleeping man. The long and deep scars encrusted in the man's face were striking. He seemed worn out and worried even in his sleep. Harry was under the impression that his wrinkles were due to exhaustion and that the man was therefore way younger than he seemed. His light brown jacket, his grey shirt and his brown trousers were all faded. A deep brown suitcase above the wizard's bore a label reading 'R. J. Lupin'. Had he been a professor, Harry was certain he would not have been on this train. Indeed, Harry had not encountered a single adult while he was looking for his friend. When the train departed, he heard someone open the coach's door. He turned towards it, hoping that glaring at the intruder would be enough to scare him – or her – away. But his mouth twitched in a smile instead when he saw the newcomer.

"Hi there, Harry! Ready for Hogwarts?" Draco asked, taking a seat in front of Harry.

"More than ever!"

Noticing the sleeping man next to him, Draco shot a questioning look. "Who's that man, R. J. Lupin? Ever heard of him?"

"Draco, a few weeks ago, I didn't know about Quidditch and Chocolate Frogs, do you honestly think I'd know about wizarding families more than you do?"

"I am so sorry I assumed you were no longer an ignorant muggle, dear friend" the blonde boy replied with a smile, not seeming sorry at all. "And since you mentioned Chocolate Frogs, I've got something for you."

Harry blushed. He had nothing for Draco.

"Hey, Potter! Look at me! I brought you all the cards I have in double and you've been staring at me for a while, instead of actually paying attention"

"Yeah, sorry… It's really amazing, thank you so much!"

"You're welcome. Now you'll be able to start trading at Hogwarts"

"Brilliant!"

The two friends immediately started chatting about the wizarding world. Harry especially enjoyed hearing about Quidditch. They were in the middle of a conversation about the best Quidditch teams when the door of the compartment opened suddenly.

A young witch with brown and messy hair and already in her robes appeared at the door, accompanied by a black-haired boy who seemed excessively nervous.

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad wandering around? My friend Neville lost his pet" the witch asked.

"No, no toads in here" Draco replied

Harry started searching all of his pockets one by one, jokingly. Obviously, the toad was nowhere near any of his pockets. "I second that!"

Neville, nervous as he was, burst out laughing. Hermione shot him an exasperated look. At this, Neville seemed to relax slightly.

"Neville Longbottom, pleased to meet you!" he smiled.

"Harry Potter!" Upon hearing his name, both Hermione and Neville gasped. Willing to avoid his friend any embarrassment, Draco intervened.

"I'm Draco Malfoy. You are?" he asked, glaring at Hermione.

"Hermione Granger." she said, extending her hand. He feigned not seeing it. Harry shot his friend a questioning look and shook Hermione's hand in his stead to save appearances.

"It's great meeting you two! Apart from Draco, I have no friends in the wizarding world. I met him a few weeks ago, while shopping in Diagon Alley. And I was doing that for the very first time too. Even though my parents were wizards, I grew up in the muggle world, not knowing about any of this until very recently, when a half giant came crushing the front door."

"Wow! Most of the books I read about your story wondered where you had gone. You were in the muggle world after all… Hidden in plain sight, how clever…"

"Okay. Enough talking about me. Are you and Neville friends since childhood?"

"Oh, no! I met him on the train. I'm a muggleborn, you see?" Draco shivered. He grabbed Harry's sleeve and tried to drag him out of the compartment.

"Yes we do. Perfectly. Thank you for passing by. Best of luck finding your pet frog, Longbottom. We have to change into our school robes now. You should do the same." said Draco hurriedly.

Harry followed him out, confused.

"Hey! We are still far away from the school, at least according to the schedule. What was that for?"

"She's a mudblood, Harry! We can't mix with her sort!"

Harry had never heard the word "mudblood", but it did sound like an insult, and a serious one at that, given Draco's tone.

"You know who else was a mudblood? My mother. You wouldn't want to mix with _my_ sort either!" Harry shouted angrily. He tried to leave and slam the door, but a shocked Draco prevented him from doing so.

"Harry, no, wait! I didn't say anything like that ! I'm sure your mother was a great pe-"

"I don't know about that! In fact, all of you probably know much more than me about my own family! But there is something both of us don't know: we have no idea who that girl is, what kind of person she might be, what kind of friend she might become."

"But Harry, you don't understand. She doesn't know anything about our world and she probably hates us all! You said it in your letters, you muggles aren't fond of magic, and your aunt despised your mother!"

"I didn't know anything about the wizarding world either! It doesn't make me less worthy of it. The same applies to her. And my uncle and aunt are the worst kind of muggles. But most people are actually decent human beings, if only you take the time to get to know them better."

"She may be decent and all, but I bet you she won't make a single effort to fit in. And with her limited power she'll be a disgrace to the wizarding kind. You can't convince me that with no magical parents, she'll be able to perform as well as we will."

"You don't know anything about that. Hagrid told me my mother was a great witch."

Draco felt uncomfortable every time Harry mentioned his mother.

"Look, your mother is special, alright?" he paused. "I bet you that mud- muggleborn girl doesn't know a thing about how things are around here. And I'm talking about stuff you can't find in books, Harry. Real magic."

"I don't know much about it either, I hope you're aware of that."

"How many times will I have to tell you that you are a special case? You're not a muggleborn _and_ you defeated a dark wizard when you were only a toddler, for Merlin's sake! She, on the other hand, still has to prove herself worthy of my time. For now, she's nothing and I won't consent to be seen in her company."

Harry was exasperated by Draco's bigoted attitude. In fact, that boy had started to remind him of the ones who used to avoid him at school because of Dudley's malevolent lies. However, Draco remained his only friend, and he was determined to keep him. He was convinced Draco was good at heart and decided he would rid him of his prejudices rather than leave him to rot in them. Thus, he remained silent for a few seconds, thinking about a way to settle the situation. Finally, an idea popped up in his mind.

"Let's put her to the test, then!" he proposed.

"What?"

"You heard me. Let's see if she knows any magic... if she made any efforts."

"Are you insane?"

"Not in the least," he answered very seriously. "Come on, let's change quickly and go find them!"

They had to look inside four compartments before they noticed Hermione and Neville from afar in the corridor, still asking around about the latter's toad. Both boys walked decidedly towards them, both wanting to prove their respective point.

"Hey, Hermione!" Harry shouted. "We're starting to get really bored with this never ending train ride, so we figured we should do something fun. Fancy playing a game with us?"

"What are you playing?" she asked, confused.

"It's Draco's idea, actually. He wants to… play a game, where you're going to have to ask each other questions about the magical world. I bet you would beat him easily, so he's really angry right now!" Harry said, smiling.

"Hey! I'm not angry! I know I can win!" Draco shouted, feigning to be angry. "So, are you in?"

"Only if casting spells is involved! I've never had the opportunity to use my wand and I'm so excited to try it!"

Draco looked bewildered. Harry chuckled, as he had just obtained the confirmation he would not be proven wrong by Hermione.

The four of them moved to Harry and Draco's compartment to avoid being disturbed during the game.

"I'm not playing." Neville said. "Grandma made me promise not to cast spells unsupervised"

"That's okay, Neville. I'm not playing either, I never cast a spell anyway." Neville smiled at Harry. He was relieved he would not be the only one not to take part in the game.

"Alright. But the two of you will be part of the game anyway." Hermione stated. Harry and Neville gasped with surprise as they felt a pang of nervousness.

"Wha-what do you mean, part of the game?" Neville asked agitatedly.

"Just you wait and see. First challenge, if you may, Draco" Hermione answered, clearly amused.

"Ladies first" Draco's eyes were twinkling with the thrill of the challenge.

"Repair Harry's glasses." Hermione dared Draco. "I take the right side, you fix the left one. At the count of three… One, two, three!"

" _Occulus reparo_!" Both students shouted at the same time. Harry's glasses were immediately fixed. Harry was delighted to witness magic first-hand, especially when it meant he could see better than ever.

"Easy." Hermione boasted.

"Yeah. Totally basic." Draco confirmed, refusing to admit he was impressed by Hermione's capabilities. "Tell me how you would behave if you were to meet the head of a wizarding family, like Mrs Longbottom, for instance"

"I would greet her, slightly bowing my head, with my wand facing down. I'd be holding it with my right hand, of course." Hermione smirked. Draco could not believe she already knew so much about a world she had just discovered. It was Hermione's turn to assign a task to Draco."Now… Tell me the names of three wizarding schools apart from Hogwarts."

"Beauxbâtons in France, Durmstrang, somewhere in Eastern Europe and the Salem Witch Institute, in North America." Draco answered quickly. He looked around looking for inspiration. "See the lock on my trunk there?" he leered. "I'll get Harry's. One… Two… Three…"

" _Alohomora_!" Both locks clicked open.

With every challenge, Draco grew more and more impressed with Hermione's magic - although he would never admit _that_ \- especially since she had never practiced all those spells before because of the Trace. After a half dozen challenges each, the two opponents started to run out of ideas hard enough to overthrow their adversary, and Harry and Neville had gotten bored of being mere bystanders.

"I guess it's a draw you guys." Neville assessed in order to put a definite end to the game.

"But good job, both of you, really" Harry encouraged them, glad he had managed to draw Draco closer to Hermione. He winked at Draco.

At that moment, a woman with a trolley full of snacks passed their compartment. As Harry was quite hungry, impressed by the amount of food on the trolley and curious about the treats he had never seen before, he was the first to shout: "Time for snacks!"

The small group of friends was happily chatting and munching their food when suddenly, the train stopped and the lights shut down. The whole train became silent, and the only thing Harry could hear was the rain falling heavily outside. He felt a knot forming in his stomach. He felt something had gone terribly wrong. What he feared most at that moment was that he would have to be sent home because of a technical problem, and therefore, he would have to resume living with his tormentors in the cupboard under the stairs. However, his fear intensified as a freezing breeze reached him. He started shivering uncontrollably. The knot in his stomach was bigger and bigger. As the cold intensified, he could see the steam he had let off and the condensation forming on the train windows. As an attack of shivers hit him, deep sadness – despair even – overcame him. He felt as though he would never be happy again. The wave of unhappiness was such that he was not aware of his surroundings anymore. He could not see Draco, Neville and Hermione's pale and quivering figures or the awakening silhouette of the unknown man. The vibrant, clear and piercing cry of a woman tore his soul apart as he fainted.

He struggled to open his eyes, as rays of light attacked his pupils whenever he parted his eyelids. When he finally managed to adjust to the light, he found he was surrounded by his three friends who were distressed by his poor state. They were pale themselves, but apparently, none of them had reacted as extremely as himself. Their eyes flashed with relief when they understood he was out of danger. They all started asking him how he felt at the same time - or so he guessed, for he could not make out a single word of their chaotic enquiries.

His head was still throbbing, he felt dizzy. The agonising cry came back to his mind, and he felt a knot in his stomach again. He thought he would maybe faint again, but his fear did not intensify like the first time. At first, he had thought Hermione had shouted, but the scream was that of an adult woman; it had been the scream of a woman fearing for her life or for the life of someone close to her. An idea popped up in his mind, but he cast it away quickly, as it was both impossible and too painful.

"I'm… I'm fine, guys, thanks."

"Eat this." an unknown voice said from behind his friends.

"It'll make you feel better". R. J. Lupin's eyes were full of worry. For a fleeting moment, Harry had the strange impression there was something else in the stranger's glance. Something that he could not put a name on but seemed valuable. He mumbled a small thank you as he took the chocolate Lupin was holding out for him, and watched the latter leave the compartment hurriedly. It was generally known one should never accept food from a stranger, and it was even more the case in the magical world where the consequences could be disastrous. But he truly was weak, the train was safe and… for no apparent reason, Harry could not help but trust the stranger.

A couple of bites had sufficed for Harry to be fully recovered from his previous shock. Once his friends had made sure he was back to normal, they started discussing what had just happened. However, they could not make any progress given some of them had anything to lose their theories on.


	3. The Boy Who Belonged

A/N: Hi guys! Thanks for reading our first fanfic. We're just having some fun with the Harry Potter universe. This story doesn't have a beta reader and we are not native English speakers, so please, bear with us and do let us know how you like it!

The four friends were too enthralled in their conversations to notice the time passing. When the subject of the dementors had been - rapidly - exhausted, they had started to chat excitedly about what was awaiting them at Hogwarts.

"So, Slytherin is the best House, right?" Harry asked, looking at Draco He hadn't expected his innocent, almost naïve, question to spark such a heated debate, for even if his question had been mostly aimed at Draco, all parties had joined in, arguing in a way Harry thought to be exclusive to sports and politics alone. Had he known that Houses were one of the beating heats of both sports _and_ politics in the wizarding world, he surely would have refrained from asking that question. No, who was he kidding, he thought. He would just have rephrased it. His affirmation like question was quite blunt, after all. Even if he had had the idea to correct his question and have it be just a tiny bit more diplomatic, he would not have had enough time to do so. Draco had jumped at the opportunity.

"Yes, of course it is!"

"Well, according to _Hogwarts, a History_ , Slytherin is far from being the best House, really. Slytherins are not very popular with other students, and the book says it's deeply rooted. Did you know that Salazar Slytherin – that is, one of the four founders of Hogwarts and the one who gave his name to the House – had a really big fight with the other three? Besides, you can't deny that many dark wizards were Slytherins." Hermione replied.

Draco was not in the least bothered by what any eleven years old other than him would have felt like a serious accusation. He simply waved his hand dismissively.

"All houses have had their fair share of dark wizards, but everyone focuses on Slytherin's bad reputation and seems to forget how its students constantly contribute to making the wizarding world greater. Keep in mind that Merlin was a Slytherin, doesn't your book mention it?" At the challenge, she opened her book, sure of herself. But soon, annoyance filled her features when she realised he was right.

"Alright, you may be right on that one. But it doesn't put Slytherin above other houses."

"It clearly puts them above Hufflepuff, at least alumni-wise. I mean, would you rather have Merlin or Eglantine Puffett, the inventor of the … Self-Soaping Dishcloth?"

"I wouldn't mind Hufflepuff that much." Neville said. "Although, my Gran keeps reminding me that we're mostly Gryffindors in the family." He paused for a second "She'd prefer Gryffindor, obviously, but at this point she is just too happy I'm not a squib. She won't care about my House scarf colors, as long as I have one"

"My family was mostly sorted into Slytherin, apart from some… exceptions." He paused then said smugly. "Naturally, I am expected to easily make it into Slytherin"

"You're really lucky to be so sure, Draco! I'm hoping for Ravenclaw but Gryffindor wouldn't be that bad either. I'm the first of my family to go to Hogwarts so my parents don't even realise how important this actually is… In _Hogwarts, a History -_ "

"I wonder where my family members were sorted…" Harry interrupted. A part of him truly felt the urge to seek more information about the world he belonged in, but he was mostly trying to avoid another monologue about Hogwarts in the ancient times. Of course, he was interested in History. But for now, that of his own family was the number one priority.

"Well, Harry, since you're bringing this up, I'll let you know that I've had a chance to look at the Malfoy family tree this summer, and you'll never guess, but we're actually cousins!"

"What?" his eyes widening with surprise.

"It's true! Most wizarding families are somehow related, really, especially purebloods."

"Impressive, cousin!" Harry said only half-jokingly.

"My great-great aunt Dorea married a Potter, Charlus, who is probably your grandfather Fleamont's cousin. That would make sense since Fleamont and his wife Euphemia couldn't have children right away. They almost gave up, but then, your father, James, came along. He was considerably younger than the rest of his cousins, who already had children and all."

Harry was shaken to know he, too, had a family. Well, of course, he knew he must have had a family of some sorts. But all those years, he had been forced to listen to Dudley complaining about his great aunts. And all those years, he had thought that if he had had the chance of knowing and being accepted by any of his family members, he would never have complained about them. Now, he too had names, he too had a background, a history. He was genuinely grateful to his friend for providing him with a family he did not know existed. He tried to keep his emotions at bay, before he answered.

"So it means my family was mostly in Slytherin, too?"

"Many of them were, at least, your great uncle Charlus, that's for sure." Draco said.

"I remember my Gran saying that the Potters were both in Gryffindor."

"Absolutely. I read that in _The Greatest Witches and Wizards of the 20_ _th_ _century._ Did you know that there's a whole chapter about you and your family? Well, mostly you." Hermione added, excited.

Harry's cheeks turned red with embarrassment. "Um… No, I didn't. But thanks for the info."

Seeing as Harry was not comfortable with the attention, Hermione added: "It must be that your family has both Gryffindors and Slytherins, it happens. Anyway, even if your parents are Gryffindors, it doesn't mean you'll necessarily end up there. Anyway, I don't think you will, and that's for the best, if you ask me."

They were interrupted by the train coming to a halt. Although none would acknowledge it, dread filled all four of them. Wizards and muggle had no idea of what was coming next, as books and story-telling could only be the ghost of the reality at best. They followed the rest of the first years outside of the train, where Harry was glad to face a known face – that of Hagrid.

"How are yeh Harry?" The giant shouted.

"Hi Hagrid! I'm great, thanks!" he answered excitedly. But he noticed something seemed off with Hagrid' demeanour. The smile he had addressed Harry seemed forced, his brows were furrowed and he was visibly avoiding his gaze.

But Harry could not ponder on it longer, as Draco elbowed him.

"Look!" he said, pointing to somewhere behind Hagrid's enormous figure.

The sight made Harry's mind go blank. Dozens of small boats were awaiting them on Hogwarts' impressive lake. The billions of stars reflected on the lake, which made it twinkle astoundingly. However, what truly caught Harry's attention was the massive shining castle standing on the other side of the lake. Once his eyes had set on it, he could not take them off of it. He had absentmindedly followed the rest of the first years into the barques. He ignored his classmates' squeals of admiration as he was too focused on the bewildering building. The thought of living in such a monument when he was used to 4, Privet Drive was overwhelming. A pang of terror overtook him at the thought. What if he failed his exams and he was kicked out of school? What if the Sorting Hat decided he did not belong to any house, and he was forced to go back to his frightful life with the Dursleys?

His admiration for the school associated with the shock of the train's events and the fear of being expelled on his first day was just too much. His mind became dizzy, his vision blurred. Only his legs remained active, unconsciously following Hagrid and the other students. He did not realise they had entered Hogwarts until a commanding emerald-cloaked woman with a pointed hat appeared from a huge and imposing – yet somehow less commanding – door.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Her sharp green eyes bore into each of the first years' shaking figures before she addressed them sternly.

"Welcome to Hogwarts" she said "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly. but before you take your seats in the great hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony, because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Harry looked around him for the first time. Everyone seemed engaged in an animated conversation. The atmosphere was exhilarating, especially given the inside of the building was as stunning as its exterior. As he observed his classmates, he noticed many of their robes had suffered greatly from the little trip across the lake. A ginger boy whose robe seemed even dirtier than the others started addressing the rest of the group.

"Ready for the troll, you guys?"

"What trolls?"

"The ones we're supposed to wrestle to get sorted, of course! According to Fred and George, they sometimes get dragons, but they're pretty sure that this year, it will be trolls" he said with a haughty and proud air.

"There is no such thing. There is no sign of any wrestling or other combat tasks in _Hogwarts, a History_ " Hermione affirmed disdainfully, glad her knowledge could already be put to use. For once, Harry was glad, even relieved that Hermione knew that book so well. To be honest, he wasn't feeling like he could face any creature whatsoever, let alone make it out alive.

"Shut up you bloody bookworm!" Hermione's mouth gaped open with shock. Draco shot the red-headed boy a scornful, almost murderous look.

"You shut up. She's right. We'll be sorted with a magic hat, all we'll have to do is put it on our heads. No one would make students face trolls, on their first day of school and at eleven years old no less! You know that thing you have in your skull? It's called a brain, and it wouldn't hurt to use it from time to time. Maybe it'll make you less of a moron."

The boy's cheeks turned the color of his scarlet hair. "Who are you, anyway?" he said aggressively.

"Draco Malfoy."

"I knew it! I knew it! My father told me all about your family. All of you are way too shady. I hear your folk are still into Dark Arts and all, and I bet you'll be no different, Malfoy, nasty and evil, like your kind."

"I feel sorry for you, Weasley... because that's what you are, right? Not because of your filthy robes or your unkempt appearance, although you could have made an effort, honestly. No, I feel sorry for you. You clearly can't think for yourself. All you do is repeat whatever you hear from your father or brothers, even if it's utter nonsense… to any sane-minded person, that is."

Draco's witty defense helped Hermione recover enough to take over the quarrel.

"And as Aristophanes once said "Youth ages, immaturity is outgrown, ignorance can be educated, and drunkenness sobered, but stupid lasts forever""

Harry felt like clapping vigorously. He despised bullies above all, and Weasley acted like the worst of them. Despite having no idea who that guy Aristophanes was, Neville and Draco clearly agreed with his wit. They started laughing uncontrollably and soon, the laughter spread to the whole room. The redheaded boy was now mumbling something about dangerous dark wizarding families sending their evil scions to infiltrate Hogwarts. As no one wanted to believe they were about to face trolls, Draco's reply had been an immense success among the other students.

"So, Slytherins are not popular with other students, eh?" Draco asked Hermione, smirking.

"Draco, you haven't even been sorted yet!"

"Oh, come on! It's a mere formality!"

The crowd was still laughing out loud when the emerald-cloaked teacher returned to accompany them to the Great Hall. If a mere look from the impressive teacher had not sufficed to silence the students, the Great Hall's fairy ceiling would have completed the task. All the students were amazed at the sight of the velvety-black ceiling which was dotted with stars. In fact, many even doubted the existence of any ceiling, but Hermione assured them of the contrary, as it was explained in _Hogwarts, A History_. Thousands of candlelights hanging midair added to the magic of the scenery. The first years' excitement was such that they did not even notice the hundreds of faces staring at them from the four long tables. However, when they approached the teachers' long table at the end of the hall, an old, battered and ragged hat drew Harry's attention. When he realised this was the hat his friends and him had been rambling about in the train, anticipation, panic and intrigue rushed over him at once. Suddenly, a tear opened in the brim of the hat, and the latter started singing.

As soon as the hat finished its song, Professor McGonagall started calling out students. Hannah Abbott was the first on the list. The professor showed her a stool on which she was sit. Professor McGonagall then placed the Sorting Hat on her head. After a moment of deliberation, the hat announced loudly "Hufflepuff!". The whole room started cheering, the Hufflepuffs louder than the others. Harry noticed a very old, long bearded man with half-moon glasses and a crooked nose at the table of the teachers. Given his demeanour and the way the other teachers looked at him, he seemed to be the headmaster Hagrid had mentioned. He was not properly applauding like the other teachers, but his expressive eyes showed kindness and pride towards Abbott and, as Harry would observe later, towards every student. Harry was too nervous to notice that Susan Bones had been sent to Hufflepuff, Terry Boot to Ravenclaw, Lavender Brown to Gryffindor and Gregory Goyle to Slytherin. Then McGonagall called Hermione, and Harry, Neville and Draco stared expectantly at the Hat. When it announced, unsurprisingly, "Ravenclaw", Hermione's relief was palpable. Harry wondered what she had been afraid of. To him, it was clear she was fond of studying, and that she would be a great witch. When it came to him however, he was still unconvinced he truly was part of this world, and he did not have the slightest idea of what house he might belong to. A few students later, it was Neville's turn to be sorted. Knowing how much he wished to go to Gryffindor, his three friends paid particular attention to the scene. Harry started worrying after a few minutes of the Hat's deliberations. What was going on? Could one really be unsortable and be expelled? But just as Harry's anxiety started to grow exponentially, the Sorting Hat shouted "Gryffindor". The four friends sighed in relief, while the Gryffindor table exploded with joy. As Harry was clapping his hands vigorously, a sudden and sharp pain reached his forehead. He looked at the professors' table. A dark-haired and stern looking man was staring at him disdainfully. He elbowed Draco.

"Who is that man next to Professor Quirrel?" Harry whispered.

"Who is Professor Quirrel?"

"The teacher with a violet turban."

"Oh! That's my godfather, Severus Snape. He teaches potions and he's the head of Slytherin. I'm sure you're gonna love him! He's a bit strict, but he's a great wizard!"

"Draco Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall called.

Harry felt Draco quiver before he stepped towards the stool. But it turned out that Draco had nothing to fear, given the Hat took merely seconds to shout "Slytherin!". After that, Theodore Nott joined the Slytherins, Parvati Patil was sorted into Gryffindor while her twin sister, Padma, went to Ravenclaw and Pansy Parkinson also joined Slytherin.

When Professor McGonagall called his name, Harry felt like he was about to faint. However, his legs somehow worked on their own once again and he managed to reach to reach the feared stool. As soon as the professor placed the Sorting Hat on his head, he heard a male voice in his mind.

"Hmm… Where should I put you?"

Harry had not had time to really think about what house he would like to join. If he were to be honest to himself, he did not really care about what house he should be sorted to as long as he DID get sorted into a house.

"You are brave… Very brave indeed… But I believe Slytherin would help you achieve grand things! It would lead you to the path of greatness! Thus, I think you should go to... SLYTHERIN!"

Harry burst with joy. Not only had he been officially accepted into the school, but he got to share the same house as Draco! However, when he looked around, he realised the entire Hall had fallen silent. Everyone was looking at him with wide eyes. It took a few seconds for his three friends to start applauding, and even longer for the others to join in. Even while cheering, everyone seemed bewildered. Well, everyone except for Dumbledore, who was applauding as loudly as the Slytherin students, and whose eyes were filled with mirth. Snape, however, was still too stunned to even feign being happy to acquire a new student. Once McGonagall had recovered from her own imperceptible shock, she carried on her task.

Draco and Harry immediately started conversing enthusiastically to the older Slytherins in order to discover what they were to expect. But as the emotions started to wear out, Harry felt his stomach growling with hunger. He looked disappointedly at his empty golden plate and wondered when they would finally be able to eat. When Blaise Zabini made into a Slytherin, McGonagall took the hat away and Dumbledore stood up.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..." Dumbledore paused, his brows furrowed. His twinkling black eyes scanned the four tables of students before he started again.

"As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business." Although it was almost imperceptible, he did not seem happy about Azkaban sending his dementors here, whoever that Azkaban was.

"Also, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." "On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome Remus Lupin, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He will be in charge of teaching the fifth and seventh years." Dumbledore pointed at a man at the staff table who Harry recognized as R. J. Lupin, the man who had offered him chocolate on the train. "Professor Quirrel will keep teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts to the rest of the years. And now, let the feast begin!"

The second Dumbledore had uttered his last word, all sorts of food started appearing on the table. There was more food than Harry had ever seen in his entire life. Even hundreds of Dudleys could not eat so much food! He had no idea how he was supposed to act in such a situation. He saw that his classmates had already started gorging themselves. Thus, he shyly put one chicken thigh in his plate and started chewing on it.

"Hey Potter, you'd better pay attention to your table manners. Sit up straight and put some food on your plate. You don't want to get on professor Snape's bad side on your first night" said Marcus Flint, one of the two Slytherin prefects.

"Um, yeah, sorry, I'm not very hungry"

"I don't care. You didn't eat a proper meal since breakfast, I bet you. And do not just stuff yourself on sweets like those two over there" At that, Flint turned to chastise the two students he was talking about and shifted his attention back to Harry. "Here, have some vegetables with your chicken." he said, serving him said vegetables. Although Harry was not hungry, he tried his best to follow the prefect's advice, mainly because he felt Snape's gaze piercing through him. Another Slytherin started talking to him, but with Snape's stare riveted to him, he found it very hard to focus. He still tried to forget about the intimidating gaze and to answer his classmate, although he had no idea what the subject of the conversation had been.

"I'm Theodore, by the way, Theodore Nott, but you can call me Theo"

"Good to meet you, Theo, I'm-"

"I know who you are..." Theo smiled.

"Oh yeah. I forgot about that" Harry returned his smile.

"Anyway, I'm so excited to finally start school here! I've been homeschooled my entire life." Theo paused. "Don't get me wrong, I loved it, but I'm looking forward to learning magic with someone other than my father."

"I'm looking forward to learning magic, period."

Theo shot him an interrogative look. Harry, understanding the unpronounced question, told him he was raised by muggles even though his parents were wizards.

As soon as Harry pronounced the last word of his explanation, all the plates disappeared, and Dumbledore raised to his feet.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song! Everyone may pick their favourite tune!" Then, he flicked his wand slightly and a long snake-like golden ribbon appeared from the tip of it. The ribbon twisted itself to form the first words of the school anthem.

 _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

 _Teach us something please,_

 _Whether we be old and bald_

 _Or young with scabby knees,_

 _Our heads could do with filling_

 _With some interesting stuff,_

 _For now they're bare and full of air,_

 _Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

 _So teach us things worth knowing,_

 _Bring back what we've forgot,_

 _just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

 _And learn until our brains all rot._

Everyone finished singing at different times. In the end, only two ginger and completely identical Gryffindor students were still singing to a very slow funeral march. Harry recognized Fred and George from the train station, and his admiration for their sense of humour increased. Once they had finished, Dumbledore was the one who applauded most vigorously the terrible students that the students were.

Harry thought to himself that he already liked the twins, just as Marcus Flint and Gemma Farley, the prefects, entreated the whole table to follow them to the common room. On their way to the Slytherin Dungeon, Harry marveled at the paintings hanging on the walls, whose painted characters waved at them and welcomed them cheerfully. He was, however, surprised and a little afraid to find out that the stairs randomly changed directions, and he made a mental note to always make sure not to inadvertently land on the third floor. However astounding the environment, Harry could hardly concentrate on the corridors, as his conversation with Flint was still bothering him. How was he to behave properly when he did not even know what it meant?

Thus, before he knew it, the Slytherin first years were standing in front of a wall stone in the dungeons, whereupon Flint announced the current password to be "Mundi Serpentium", but was to change every fortnight. As soon as the prefect had uttered these two words, a passage leading to the common room appeared in the stone wall.

The first artefacts which struck Harry when he entered the common room were the bright greenish lamps hung on chains and which set off greatly from the gloomy room. In fact, almost everything in the room was green - from the cushions to the stones which had suffered from the lake being above part of the dungeon. Dark green drapes and tapestries representing the adventures of Medieval Slytherins covered the walls. A masterfully carved mantelpiece faced the entrance. The warm smell of the crackling fire in the chimney slightly relaxed Harry. Flint showed the boys to their emerald-green dorm, while Gemma led the girls to theirs. But the firsties could not enjoy their dorms long, as Snape entered the common room mere minutes later and announced himself by ordering the students to gather in front of him. When Harry arrived, Snape was turning his back to him. Once all the students had joined them, Snape turned briskly, his right hand grabbing lightly his long black cloak. The gesture made the cloak fly majestically for a few seconds, resulting in all the students shivering with intimidation and all their eyes twinkling with admiration. At the sight, all the first years tensed, and the two prefects smirked.

"Welcome to Slytherin House" As though the swift movement of the cloak had not been enough to intimidate the students, he scrutinized them one by one, his aquiline nose high, seemingly already gauging their characters and threatening them with the most atrocious of punishments. "I am professor Severus Snape and I will be your head of House for the next seven years. First of all, I want to you to be aware that the sorting hat chose to place you in this house because it saw that you had in you the same qualities Salazar Slytherin favoured: cunning and ambition, not evil and darkness. From now on and for the rest of your life, you are Slytherins. You are part of a large, powerful and loyal family. Soon, the charms placed on the crests on your uniforms will work their magic and you will walk in the hallways of this castle with a silver snake embroidered on your chests. In the eyes of many of your non-Slytherin peers, it is sufficient ground to be wary and distrusting.

Not all of them, of course, and I am not saying you shouldn't make friends outside of this House. On the contrary, I encourage you very strongly to try and build friendships and networks outside of Slytherin, but do not expect it to be smooth and effortless. You may think that it is not fair. But if this managed to escape your notice for the past eleven years, let me be straightforward and make it clear to you once and for all: life is not fair, and it will never be, so you'd better get used to it and find ways to get around it. Slytherins are known for their ability to bend the rules. What the other Houses don't know is that there is a particular set of rules which tolerates no bending of any sort. The first rule is very simple, yet, it is the most powerful. Slytherins are one. We stand by each other. When struggling, no one is left behind. When in need of support, no one is left on his or her own. When in danger, no one is left unprotected. When you are a Slytherin, you don't let down your fellow snakes and vice versa. You must have understood it by now: there is a strong sense of unwavering support and loyalty, but it does not mean that you won't have to face the consequences of your actions. When students of the other houses witness our interaction, they will be lead to believe that I would let you get away with murder. That is only partially true, and we let it play in our favour. They will know that all Slytherins are protected, that coming after one of us means making enemies out of all the rest. That is why, when you are in wrong, will not reprimand you in front of your non-Slytherin classmates. Nor will I punish you in public and I will always take your side no matter what. But once you step foot in this room, you will have to face my wrath. I will not bother to go into details as I am sure your upperclassmen's tales will be a strong enough deterrent - or at least I hope so - for your own sake. Similarly, any dispute between two or more members of this house will be settled in the privacy of the common room and no sign of conflict or dissention shall be apparent to the other students or to any of your professors except for myself. From now on, you represent the Slytherin House. You are Salazar's students, and as such, your behaviour, grades, and appearance must be exemplary. In order to ensure that you get enough sleep, you will find timetables in your dorms. They are to be strictly followed. You uniforms must be ironed and spotless at all times. You will be on time for meals and display proper table manners. You will eat a healthy and balanced diet. You will enter and leave the Great Hall calmly and in an orderly fashion. You will be on time for all of your classes. When speaking to your professors, your will be respectful and courteous. You will pay attention, take notes, and do you best to be awarded as much Houses points as possible. Slytherin has been winning the House Cup for the past six years, and I would hate for this year to become an exception. I will not allow any student to slack off in his or her classwork. Receive any grade lower that an Acceptable twice and you will have to make room for remedial lessons during your free time. Follow my rules, and you won't have anything to fear from me. Act like the rules don't apply to you and you'll find yourself spending a lengthy and incredibly unpleasant time in my office.

In a few weeks, your prefects will divide you in groups of three to four students according to your performance in each class. You will have mandatory daily sessions with your respective study groups. Also, the Slytherin House offers additional classes: wizarding culture, rhetoric, and ballroom dancing. You must enroll in at least one of them." He paused to emphasize his last sentence, making the atmosphere unbearably electrified. "I understand that this may feel overwhelming, but you are not on your own. Your prefects and upperclassmen will be happy to help. My office is adjacent to the common room and my door is always open should you feel the need adult guidance. It is normal to be nervous and even a little bit scared, but keep in mind that you are not the first nor will you be the last. You will get used to being here in no time, and I can assure you that you will enjoy your time at Hogwarts as Slytherin. Now, off to bed, all of you."

As soon as he had freed them, the students, made their way towards their warm and tension-free dorms. "Except for you, Potter."

Harry startled and stopped moving altogether. His behaviour during the Welcoming Feast and Snape's gaze on him back then came back to his mind. Terror washed over him, and he felt panic-struck. Harry knew he was a 'freak', as his uncle and aunt had constantly been calling him. However, at the reception of the letter, he had hoped he would be able to enjoy this heaven-like world for a while longer. Of course, he knew he was eventually to be exposed for what he really was. He had only hoped for this pretense to last longer than a mere day. But after all, he was a fool for hoping something as great as experiencing magic could ever be granted to the expandable child he was.

"My office. Now." Snape said sternly, and turned brutally. The movement of his cloak made Harry shudder once more before he started to follow him mechanically.


	4. Of Wolves and Orphans

Of Wolves and Orphans

He had dreaded nightfall for most of his life. Ever since the bite, actually. With each new mishap, his sleep had become more agitated. Over the last few years, the great majority of his nights had been sleepless. The murder of Lily and James Potter had, of course, considerably added to his restlessness, but it was far from the only happening leaving him tossing and turning at night. In the rare occurrences when slumber did come to him, the leisurely state did not last more than a few hours. He was constantly in a state of sleep deprivation. His organism had adapted, though, and he was able to work efficiently regardless.

However, the past week, negative thoughts were less abundant than usual. The thought of returning to Hogwarts – the only place where he had truly been happy – had eased his mind. He had even managed to sleep right through last night – a miracle!

At Hogwarts, James, Sirius, Peter and him had been the best of friends, playing pranks on the whole school. Remus could not help a chuckle as he remembered one particular prank they had played on Professor McGonagall. The look on her face when Sirius had declared his flamboyant love to her had definitely been worth the harsh punishment they had received once James had been caught trying to sneak into her office. Usually, he was not the one to pull out pranks. He was more of the silent witness, who secretly tried to make sure his friends did not go too far. Those three had accepted him in spite of his _illness_. Not only that, but they had become animagi to be more like him. They had accompanied him to the Shrieking Shack every time he had one of his transformations. And there were also the constant private jokes. None of their fellow students had ever understood their respective nicknames. And how could they, since the magic necessary to turn into an animagus was way beyond what a Hogwarts student should be able to achieve. Thanks to the Marauders, he had felt special for the first – and last – time in his life. After Hogwarts, he had had to enter society, and there began the disillusion. He had only been faced with prejudice and exclusion. The fall had been as grim as the as his time in Hogwarts had been peaceful. Of course, he had stayed close to his friends after graduation. But outside of Hogwarts, he could also perceive all the long-sided glances from colleagues and strangers from which the Marauders could not protect him.

And then, the murder happened. He still struggled to comprehend how Sirius, who was clearly James's best friend, could have committed such a treason. Although, Sirius's evil nature did show up when they 'pranked' Snape. He always tried to soften his friends' bullying of their classmate, but he did not always manage to do so. His friend's endeavour to hurt Snape might well have caused a tragedy once, if not for the intervention of James. And the worst part of it all is that he had been the potential murder weapon! If not for James, he would have killed Snape while in his werewolf shape! He had been so angry with Sirius! But even his fury had not helped him overcome his social insecurities… even that had not helped him control his shyness enough to express himself and make Sirius understand how irresponsible he was at times… how his behaviour might be a real danger to others! In fact, this lack of control even made him feel more insecure, and angry with himself. He felt a pang of guilt as he thought about this frightful event. For the same Snape he almost killed and whose bullying he was complicit in was currently making him Wolfsbane potions, in spite of his unveiled hatred towards him. He cringed. Snape was more civil to him – be it in the Order or at Hogwarts – than he and his friends had ever been to him. Of course, he knew Snape's allegiance to Dumbledore is what kept his resentment under control. He also knew that the only reason why he was making the said potion was because Dumbledore asked him to do so. But it does not lessen his merit in any way. After all, he was helping out and protecting the most guarded secret of the man who almost murdered him!

Speaking of Dumbledore… Dumbledore was the one who made sure his monthly transformations remained a private affair. He was the one who made sure he could go to school despite his lycanthropy. He built the Shrieking Shack and protected it with the Whomping Willow. After Hogwarts, when no one wanted to employ him, Dumbledore made sure he feel alone and lonely by integrated him into the Order of the Phoenix. A surge of gratitude towards the wise wizard filled him. He smiled. His admiration and loyalty towards the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts had ever known would never falter. Dumbledore was the leader of the resistance, his mentor, his protector, and a very silly character. He thought about the ending of Dumbledore's speech and chuckled. He remembered that the passwords to his office were also very odd. During his third year, he had spent his year trying to find out all of the childish passwords for fun. He had never been caught even though he had followed McGonagall multiple times – and he was very proud of it. Now that he came to think of it, McGonagall probably knew about this innocent game. Maybe she even hoped the Marauders would trick Dumbledore! After all, she did often secretly help Peeves set up his creative mischiefs.

Going back to Hogwarts really did bring back memories… And he was back to his childhood heaven, once again thanks to Dumbledore. Not to mention the fact that he would finally be able to spend time with Harry! It seemed that he would never seize to owe and be grateful to the white-bearded man. Just like every time he felt particularly down, Dumbledore had helped him stand up again. He had offered him this heaven-sent opportunity of a well-paid job in a place he cherished, where he would do what he liked and he would get to know Harry. Yes, he was very much indebted to Albus Dumbledore.

Although, he wished he had been allowed to go visit Harry these past ten years. He would have loved to see him grow, to bring him magical toys, to make sure he was never lonely, never felt neglected or rejected, and, most importantly, to make him feel loved! But as always, Dumbledore's reasoning had been clear-sighted and flawless. It was obvious that the boy needed to be isolated from a world where every single person spent their time telling his story. Where his deed was studied at school. Where the parents turned him into a real hero for the sake of bedtime stories. Such fame would have overwhelmed him. And no one could predict how much it could have meddled with his mind. It was best that he was separated from all of this. Moreover, he needed to consider his family's house as his home, so as to make sure his mother's protection persisted. And it is Lily's family, so they must have taken good care of him. Yes, he was safe, there. Being part of his life would have endangered this stability. Dumbledore was right. As usual. Well, he still felt guilty about not knowing a single thing about his best friend's beloved child, but Dumbledore was right. It was best that way.

He was startled out of his reverie by a nudge on his shoulder. He raised his eyes and saw wide and terrified green eyes staring at him curiously. As he looked past the shaking boy, he found an annoyed Snape with his arms crossed, giving him a withering look.

At the sight of the daunting professor glaring at him, Lupin thought it best to collect himself quickly. It was obvious Snape had no intention of remaining much longer in the same room as both Harry and the werewolf, even if said room happened to be his office. He wondered whether the potions' master would bother staying long enough to explain the situation to the boy before fleeing to his room, probably to drink some firewhiskey and forget about the Sorting Hat's unfortunate choice. Lupin turned to Harry. At Harry's birth, Lupin had pledged to make sure the boy was always happy and loved. But given the young wizard's complexion and composure, the werewolf had clearly failed in all respects. However, brooding over his past mistakes would not help improve his relationship with the one he would like to call his protégé. For now, he needed to make the confused green-eyed boy at ease – a difficult task, given Snape's imposing stature and terrible mood. He smiled at him.

"Good evening, Harry. Feeling better, I hope ?"

"Um, yes, thank you, Professor."

Snape, who already fancied himself in bed, had no time for such pleasantries.

"Potter, I am sure you are aware of your peculiar… _situation._ Saviour of the wizarding world or not, I will not be treating you any differently than your peers."

Had Harry been less shy he would have said:

"I beg to differ, sir! I already am the recipient of special treatment… While my classmates are already fast asleep, I happen to be, despite my tiredness, in the company of two professors, way past my bedtime – that _you_ set, for that matter."

However, Harry being who he was, he simply bowed his head in acquiescence. He also was smart enough not to challenge a professor who already so clearly despised him – for a reason unbeknownst to him.

"But as I explained earlier, life is not as fair as your Head of House. As you grow older, you will be facing some challenges at a time your classmates' major worry will be their examinations. I assure you, _you_ will have something more important to worry about, as the survival of the wizarding world may depend on the outcome of your actions."

Although horrified by his professor's foreshadowing of his life adventures, Harry listened carefully, as he knew Snape was right about what was awaiting him. This did not, however, prevent him from wondering why all of this always had to befall _him_. After all, he had just entered the wizarding world, and he would never be able to keep up to everyone's expectations! He knew nothing of magic, and he had no memory whatsoever of how he had managed to harm Voldemort in the first place. How was he to fight evil, when he had no extraordinary power and no knowledge of his potential enemies?

Snape was peering at him. Harry looked back and, when he met his eyes, he felt a singular sensation take over his stomach.

"Don't be foolish, Potter. All of us here are aware that you are still just a child. We will shield you as much as possible, and do our best to ensure you are never on your own. Nonetheless, there is always a risk you may be. You may also be required to assist an adult during a particularly fierce fight. That is why you must be prepared. The Hogwarts curriculum will make you into a fine wizard, but you need more."

"And that is where I come in" Remus said joyously to lighten up the atmosphere and calm the child who had become ever more frantic after Snape's speech.

"Precisely." Snape said gravely. "I'll leave you to it" He shot Lupin one last glance to make sure his mission was taken seriously - after all, the wolf was not to be trusted! – then turn on his heels and left.

Lupin sighed in relief. He would finally be able to talk freely to his best friends' child. The latter was still confused as to why he had been deprived of a most needed sleep, and Lupin realised he would have to be quick in his explanation of his role towards Harry. He also knew that, once his past relationship with his parents revealed, the boy would not wish to leave the office before dawn, and he would have to make sure the boy did not overexert himself on his first day at school.

"Let us take a seat, Harry. I think Professor Snape won't mind if we use these two armchairs by the fire"

"Professor Snape is probably cursing us both in his sleep as we speak and definitely wants us to get out of here as soon as possible, and yet, here we are. I think no one in Hogwarts really took his opinion into consideration, so why not just sit without pretending to be considerate and polite people?" Harry thought out loud, without realising the words had left his mind. But when he heard Lupin's hearty laugh, he became conscious of his mistake and froze in shock. Lupin, who was still uncontrollably laughing, made to put his arm around the boy's shoulders, so as to lead him to the armchairs. Harry, being used to ill-treatment at home, misinterpreted the gesture as a will to punish the insolent boy. Thus, he instinctively recoiled and raised both hands in protection of his face.

"I'm s-s-sorry, sir, I d-d-didn't m-m-mean …"

Lupin started at the strange reaction.

"Calm down, Harry! You are not in trouble, I assure you."

Harry slowly and cautiously freed his face from his shaking hands.

At the Professor's concerned look, Harry remembered he was in a different world, where he did not have to - and should not, for that matter - be the frightened child his aunt and uncle had taught him to become. He took a few seconds to compose himself. Once he considered he had sufficiently regained control of his voice, Harry spoke again, trying to take on an assured tone.

"My apologies, Professor. Today has been a rather long day and I do tend to think out loud and overreact when I am tired."

"No harm done, son. I promise I won't be long." Learning from his previous mistake, Lupin led the way to the armchair without trying to touch him.

As for Harry, being called 'son' by a stranger - or by anyone, really - puzzled him. Nonetheless, he followed the oddly kind Professor without a word. The last month had been the most confusing of his life, and he was still trying his best to just adapt to his new reality as it came, without questioning his luck.

"I know you grew up in the Muggle world with your aunt and uncle" Harry winced involuntarily. He did not need to be reminded of his 'family', if he may ever call them that. He quickly suppressed his grimace, though, as he did not wish for his past to interfere with a possible happy life in Hogwarts. "But I don't exactly know how much you know about our world and your peculiar situation"

"To be frank, sir, I didn't know I was a wizard until I got my letter. As for the rest, I know what my friends told me, but things are still quite blurry so I'd be grateful if you could clear it up a little bit"

"Of course." Lupin nodded in understanding "As you probably already know, both your parents were enemies of You-Know-Who. They were members of a secret organisation called the Order of the Phoenix. It was founded by the Headmaster to unite all wizards and witches fighting on the side of the Light. Your parents were particularly gifted, Harry. Your father was an Auror - you can think of it as the equivalent of a muggle police officer -, his job was to hunt dark wizards, and the most dangerous one at the time was You-Know-Who, naturally. But your father was also the sole heir of the Potter lineage, an ancient and extremely wealthy pureblood family. Needless to say, You-Know-Who and his followers, commonly referred to as Death Eaters, were after the Potters' prestige as well as their wealth. They relentlessly tried to make them change sides, but without success." Lupin paused to let Harry process the new information about his father's role in the war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Harry frowned. As he was trying to better grasp the particulars of his parents' death, a new question came to his mind. "This still doesn't explain why they came after a baby. Surely there were many other wealthy pureblood families who refused to serve Voldemort? I've been in the wizarding world for less than a day and I can already think of some, such as the Longbottoms"

Lupin shivered at the name, but he quickly regained his composure. "You are absolutely right, Harry. The Potters were one of many families under pressure from You-Know-Who and his followers, until a prophecy set them apart."

A prophecy? Where had Harry landed? This world was definitely a mad one. He wondered how many eerie phenomena he had yet to discover and adjust to. Noting Harry's disbelief, Lupin added:

"Well… Divination is quite an imprecise art to say the least, but there are a few seers. More importantly, there are people who believe their procephies, and You-Know-How happened to be one of them."

"And what was this prophecy about?"

"You."

"Pardon?"

"The prophecy, if my memory serves me right, states the following: "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not." This prophecy could have been about a few other children your age, but You-Know-Who decided to come after you even though you were just a baby. Your parents went into hiding, but You-Know-Who found them eventually. That night - Lupin broke off in the middle of his explanation. It was clear to Harry that the professor was pained.

"Is everything alright, Professor?" He asked shyly.

At that, Lupin was pulled out of his reverie and regained control over his emotions.

"Yes, thank you, Harry." Lupin paused, before he resumed speaking gravely. "The prophecy mentions "a power the Dark Lord knows not", that power, Harry, is love. Your parents died for you but thanks to an ancient form of magic, your mother's love protected you and You-Know-Who's killing curse backfired. That's what made you famous, that's why everyone knows your name"

Harry struggled to comprehend all that was being said, as the story sounded more and more improbable. Once his mind had managed to deal with the overwhelming truth of his parents' final moments, he asked:

"If I understand you correctly, Professor, this means that I have been designated as the saviour of the wizarding world at age one, a tragic turn of events making me into a hero for being part of something I don't even remember. But if we are here today, it means that backfiring curse didn't really kill Voldemort. He's still alive, isn't he?"

Lupin shivered again. "Many believe he died that night, Harry"

"But you don't. And neither does Professor Snape." He insisted firmly.

"No, indeed. We think, and so does the Headmaster, that You-Know-Who is not entirely gone, and that he could regain all his forces and come after you and the whole wizarding world. That's why you need more than what the Hogwarts curriculum can give you, Harry. You need to be properly trained. That's partly why I am here. I will be tutoring you for the next seven years in various subjects, mainly Defense Against the Dark Arts. You will have to make room for some extra lessons in your schedule, but I promise I'll make them as entertaining as possible, and if you are anything like your mum and dad, you'll be both brilliant _and_ fun, you only need to promise me I won't be on the receiving end of many pranks of yours"

Harry was relieved to know he would be taking private lessons. As he was new to this world, he was sure he would never equal his peers' magical skills. Thus, it was reassuring to know he would at least be given the chance to learn how to protect himself in case of attack – that is, if he ever managed to learn anything… he was, after all, a good for nothing, as Aunt Petunia loved to remind him. Strangely enough, despite his reserves concerning his aptitudes, his worries were slowly soothed by the kind look Professor Lupin lay on him. However, he had no idea what the Professor could be referring to when he mentioned him being like his mum and dad and… _pranks_? Surely he did not hear about all the freaky accidents at his muggle school?

"I won't be a freak, sir, I promise. It wasn't an intentional prank, it was just accidental magic. I'll learn to control it, I swear!" Harry said nervously.

Lupin looked at the frightened boy concernedly. He did not have much experience with children, but this was most definitely not a normal reaction to what was supposed to be a joke. He wondered, horrified, what his muggle family might have made him go through for him to be so oversensitive. He suppressed a pang of guilt and decided he would have to talk to Snape about it at the soonest opportunity.

"I wasn't referring to accidental magic, Harry, I was talking about your father's love for pranks. We were in the same year at Hogwarts and we used to be major pranksters, although I daresay we may be facing fierce competition from the Weasley twins"

Harry chuckles in agreement. Then, finally realising what Lupin had just said:

"You were friends with my dad, Professor? What was he like? And what about my mum, was she your friend too?"

Nervousness overcame the Professor. Lupin had no idea how to explain to the little lost boy why, although he cherished James and Lily, he had abandoned their child to the hands of a family he knew nothing about, without visiting him even once.

"Lily and James were two of my very close friends." Harry's eyes widened in amazement. "You see, I didn't have many friends growing up. Your father… he was… my first real friend. He made me feel at home here. And your mother, well, she was one of the most caring and understanding people I have ever met. She was there for me when no one else was… But when they-" Lupin stuttered. Once again, Lupin had to make an effort to regain his composure. Then, he carefully waited for Harry's reaction. Although the latter did not seem overly affected by the mention of his parents' demise, Lupin decided to lead the conversation toward merrier memories.

Lupin launched into a detailed recounting of The Marauders deeds. He told Harry about all of the pranks he could remember. Of course, he also gave the delighted child an extensive account of his parents' meeting, often exaggerating James' awkwardness to make the boy laugh. Lupin made up for the lack of photographs he could show the young man by mimicking The Marauders and Lily's expressions. Soon, Lupin was on his feet to accompany his tales with large and comic gestures. A real play was unfolding in front of Harry's sparkling eyes.

Harry was mesmerized by the attentive Professor. His tiredness miraculously washed away. He forgot all about the Potions Master, and about everything that had ever upset him. Even Professor Snape's armchairs seemed comfortable in that moment. He listened eagerly and laughed wholeheartedly at the stories about his parents' schooldays. He could not help wondering how his life would have been had they stayed alive. He would undoubtedly have been much happier at home. Maybe they would have been to parks, and played quidditch together. He imagined himself in a park, his father holding him in the air as his mother laughed uncontrollably. He tried to imagine himself being happy, but _that_ he did not manage. He had no idea what being happy was like. He could only guess it was the best sensation ever. He probably would have been spoilt by his parents, but he also knew his parents would not have let him become as much of a jerk as his cousin Dudley.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice that Lupin had interrupted his show and was silently observing him. Guessing what Harry was thinking about, Lupin said:

"They would have been unquestionably proud of you today, Harry."


End file.
